


That Sinking Feeling

by SeaweedShark



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Martin is goin through it, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Indulgent, spoilers for ep 159
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaweedShark/pseuds/SeaweedShark
Summary: My first shot at some self indulgent Jonmartin that nobody asked forSPOILERS FOR EP 159!Martin has a PTSD nightmare and Jon does his best to help.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	That Sinking Feeling

There is something deeply lonely about the sea.

Martin stands, bare feet against the warm sand, staring out across the rumbling ocean. All is quiet except for the low noises of its push and pull. Waves crashing into the shore as they surge towards his post, only to shrink back into the vast mass of water before him.

He would almost consider it beautiful if there were any sunlight to cast down on the surface of the water.

His nose is filled with the scent of brine from passing wind.

He looks down and realizes all he is wearing are his pajama pants and a loose graphic t-shirt that hung from his now boney shoulders. The cheesy print almost made him smile, as he had a distant yet fond memory of who it belonged to.

Martin's jaw was set awfully tight, though he didn't realize it until the pain crept up his temple. He couldn't push a smile across his chapped lips even if he wanted to.

Who was he thinking of, again?

The visage of a man desperately clawed at his mind, to no avail. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite recall who he was. He could only see the back of his head, looming over the table he was seated at. Focusing on something else.

His mind began to waver. He didn't need to remember anyway, for there wasn't anyone here.

Martin was alone.

As it should be.

His mind turned to static as he took a step forward. An approaching wave licked at his toes.

Then another. He could feel the cold sting of the ocean creep up his ankles. It was the kind of cold that stung your skin and then sank into your bones. The kind of cold that took your breath away.

It was exactly what happened when his body began to sink.

Without thinking about it, he had found himself deep in the ocean. Past the crashing waves and into the eerie stillness beyond. 

His body was pulled down by a steady but firm force that was not taking no for an answer.

Not that he was capable of replying anyway.

Martin simply began to drop down under the surface. Air leaving his lungs in a punch of cold that left him gasping for air that was not there.

Instead, water filled him. Cold and unforgiving, invading every inch it could.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to yell and return to the beach where at least it was warm. This cold that was encapsulating his entire being was also taking away any semblance of light he had upon the shore.

His mind began to race, but it only came out in shattered pieces of static. Martin was scared.

His body drifted down like a rock. His clothes floated around him silently and his hair sprawled around him like some tragic halo.

He wanted to cry but there were no tears to shed. The ocean swept up anything he had left, forbidding him from expelling any semblance of a reaction to what was happening to him.

And that was fine.

His eyes began to close as he accepted his fate.

The cruel waters crushing him in on himself. Cold and alone.

"M...Mar...tin?"

A voice rippled through the darkness as it attempted to break through the layers above. A quiet whisper, begging to reach its target.

Who?

"M-Martin?"

The voice cascaded through the water and seemed to seep into his skin.

Martin's eyes started to open slightly. Straining against the pitch black around him.

The voice was...familiar? He strained to remember.

The voice was even, gruff and strangely calming. He couldn't put a finger on why, but this person's voice alone sent a relaxing wave through his body.

He stopped his descent, as he began to just float in place. He didn't feel like he was treading water, more like he was suspended in time.

He waited for the voice to return, like an old friend.

Was that who this was? A friend?

"Martin??"

This time, the voice was a bit more clear.

He sounded concerned and downright alarmed, yet firm. A familiar firmness that made his heart skip a beat.

"Martin!" The voice was louder this time as it rang through his ears, rushing to him.

Then, all at once, a cacophony of memories and emotions swept over him like a tidal wave.

Martin's eyes shot open and he craned his neck towards the surface that seemed a lightyear away.

He remembered the long nights at the archive for the months he spent sleeping in the office and how he would always make sure to inform Martin when he was leaving, regardless of the time.

He remembered how he would stay far past when was necessary so Martin wouldn't be too alone for too long.

He remembered the way he would make his heart skip a beat when he smiled. Actually smiled.

He remembered the way he looked when they first stepped into the safe house. When they were safe.

When they were together.

"Jonathan!" Martin rose a hand weekly to stretch his fingertips towards the sky.

It was Jonathan. Of course, it was bloody Jonathan.

The memories were rushing back and he remembered Jonathan Sims in all his glory. 

It was always him.

God, how could he forget the love of his life? He felt so daft.

Martin used every bit of his strength to reach ever upward. It felt impossible, but renewed with the thought of returning to his short-lived safety gave him something akin to hope.

As he stretched up, he saw the shadow of something starting to come towards him. For a brief moment, he was unsure and he hesitated until the form came close enough for his eyes to fully register in the low light.

It was a hand. A hand that was darker-skinned than his own, rough with burn marks and peppered with light scars from a rough past.

Jonathan was reaching out to him from the outside. A passing thought flew by him. 

A dark coffin on the floor of the archives, a spare rib sitting beside it. A coffin that he covered with tapes in an attempt to bring his love home.

Martin’s dark eyes widened and a slight grin spread across his face for what felt like the first time in ages. 

His anchor. 

With all the strength he had left, he pushed up and their hands clasped together. 

His skin was warm and rough. The sensations crawled down his arm and enveloped him in a warm embrace.

Tears came again as he held on for dear life. "Jonathan!"

A gasp escaped Martin's lips as he shot awake. 

Sweat soaked his hair and made his clothes stick to him. He was shaking lightly.

Looking down, his hands were interlocked with Jon's.

His frantic eyes panned up to meet the concerned gaze of his love.

"Martin...are you alright?" His voice held it's usually calming tones, but it was dripping with sadness. 

"I-I, yea. Y-yea I'm alright." Martin absentmindedly squeezed Jon's hand as he sputtered out his words.

"Another nightmare?" Jon reached forward and pushed a stray hair from Martin's face. 

The action made Martin flinch slightly. Jonathan looked pained by the reaction and pulled away.

Seeing the hands that saved him shrink away made Martin panic. He reached out and grabbed it with his free hand, trembling as he feared the hand would never return.

"I'm sorry Jon…" Martin was disappointed in himself. It had been a few calm months since anything...supernatural had come for them. 

Jon had insisted they were fine, for now.

But the nightmares still snaked up his spine at night and poisoned his dreams.

The lonely clung to him like a ghost. Refusing to let go, no matter how hard he fought it.

The only solace he had was in Jonathan Sims. 

The man who trudged through the Lonely for him. The man who pulled him from the depths before he went too far.

Jonathan chuckled weekly in response. Rubbing a rough thumb over the back of Martin's still trembling hand.

Hell, he adored him.

"Don't apologize, Martin. You have been through alot...I only wish I could take those dreams away." His voice trailed off quietly as sadness took over his features.

Martin searched his face desperately looking for a way to console him. 

"T-thank you." Martin squeaked out frantically.

Jonathan looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "For what?"

"For..for saving me. I only..have these dreams because I am here to have them in the first place. If you didn't-" 

Jonathan cut him off, mid-sentence, "I would NOT let them take you." His voice was harsh but held a certain fondness that Jon only showed for him.

It made butterflies fly up in his stomach. He felt so special when it came to Jonathan. It made a warm rush flow through him, trying to overtake the cold of the Lonely.

While trapped there in the foggy beaches, he has admittedly doubted ever coming out. But he was willing to do anything to save his friends.

But deep down, he yearned for a life with Jonathan. A life that it seemed he would turn out to get.

At least for now.

But that was enough.

Tears formed in Martin's eyes. "..I know..thank you.."

Jonathan's gaze softened immensely at the sight of his waterworks. He carefully released one of Martin's hands, after one more firm squeeze, and wiped the drops from his eyes.

Then, Jon pulled Martin into his chest. 

Martin immediately melted into the other man's form. 

He took in his scent. Ran his fingers over the fabric of his shirt. Took in the sound of his breathing. He just wanted to drown here, in Jonathan's being.

It felt so much warmer than the cold oceans of the lonely.

It felt like home.

"I love you, Martin."

Martin muzzled into Jon and planted a quick kiss on his chest. "I love you too, Jon."

The sensation of Jon slowly petting his hair and running his thumb over his skin lulling him to a safe space. Before he knew it, Martin was sound asleep.

The lonely was put at bay for the rest of the night.


End file.
